"I thought so too when we got married," Amelia says, a faint, sad smile touching her lips. She cups my cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle.
"But here we are. Tyr, take care of Vega for me, okay? I failed to protect him in the past, and it weighs heavy in my heart seeing how he has turned out. At least now he doesn't have to be alone."
***
I slouch in the car seat, the silence of the Maybach a stark contrast to the screaming chaos of the club. I stare down at the ring resting in my palm. It's heavy, carved from aged gold, a piece of history and menace.
The centerpiece is a shield bearing a double-headed eagle with outstretched wings and crossed swords in its talons. A regal crown rests above the eagle, symbolizing command. Ornate scrollwork and acanthus leaves frame the sigil and flow down the thick band, evoking old-world authority.
